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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29412687">what it means to miss you (a fucking lot, apparently)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hot_chocolate_addict/pseuds/hot_chocolate_addict'>hot_chocolate_addict</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>dreamsmp writing [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Author Projecting onto TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Author is a TommyInnit Apologist (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Protective Wilbur Soot, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, i am so sad about the crimeboys you have no idea, this was written at 5am can you tell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:27:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>975</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29412687</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hot_chocolate_addict/pseuds/hot_chocolate_addict</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy didn't realise he missed him at first. </p><p>He used to refuse that feeling, refusing to grieve the man that was his stupid brother, refusing to admit that there was a hole in his heart that could not be filled.</p><p>Yet now, as he exists, he allows himself to crumble, to break apart, and to let that feeling piece him back together.</p><p>or</p><p>Tommy finally allows himself to think about Wilbur. His  feelings are much more complicated than he expected.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>dreamsmp writing [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2160702</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>138</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>what it means to miss you (a fucking lot, apparently)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i've been having major crimeboys brainrot; this is the result.</p><p>CW: mentioned character death, passing out (very brief)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tommy didn't realise he missed Wilbur, at first.</p><p>The very first moment he realised something was missing was the day of George's house being burnt down.</p><p>As he fumbled through his chests, collecting the torches, flint and steel, signs, netherrack and everything he needed, he paused for a moment as he walked down the prime path, stopping dead in his tracks.</p><p>Behind him, Ranboo also stopped, curiously peering forward at Tommy, unsure what to do, Tommy's silence uncanny.</p><p>This didn't feel <em> right, </em>Tommy thought. Usually, someone would have tried to stop him, to talk him down - it was his routine, almost.</p><p>No act of lighthearted chaos of his went unnoticed like this, usually, which meant something was <em> off. </em>Where was..</p><p>He froze, that bitter feeling rising in his throat as his heart dropped in his chest.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He hears the tall man take his place next to him, and it almost feels familiar, the place that was usually left empty, until-</p><p>"Tommy, you good?" Ranboo asks.</p><p>He swallows, ignoring the ache in his chest.</p><p>"Always<em>.</em>"</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>The second time, he sits alone in a damp, breezy tent, his feet hanging off the side of the bed as he stared at the pale cloth walls that Ghostbur set up.</p><p>The bed is hard and uncomfortable underneath him, mattress frayed and all too firm. Temples seering with pain, his head vaguely throbs.</p><p>It feels just like Pogtopia.</p><p>Tommy hasn't decided if that's a good thing yet.</p><p>He tousles his hands through his messy hair, a comforting gesture that creates this deep feeling of a warm emptiness within him.</p><p>Tommy remembers that night in L'manberg after he won their independence - he stumbled through the walls, waving his arms as Wilbur races over, sinking into his rowdy embrace as they cheered. He remembers celebrating all night long, the caravan filled with merry voices and bubbling laughter for one of the first times since the war.</p><p>As the celebrations had died down, Tommy feels himself crashing as he was left alone in the van with Wilbur, his body heavy and exhausted, almost like his feet had been glued in place.</p><p>Mind full of fog, he turned to Wilbur, the seated man still giddy and, whilst dimmer, still brewing with excitement.</p><p>He remembers stepping towards Wilbur, and the world slowly yet quickly fizzling away. He couldn't <em> hear </em>anything. Everything felt muted, silence ringing in his ears as a muffled voice called out frantically to him. he was being consumed by the silence. His body felt numb.</p><p>And the world had gone dark, and he had woken in a bed that was not his, his brother in a chair with dark circles under his eyes next to him, brushing a hand absentmindedly through the boy's hair.</p><p>Light-headed, he melted into the gentle show of affection, too tired to make a scathing comment or comeback. Wilbur had smiled, an expression laced in exhaustion and relief, telling Tommy how he was <em> such an idiot</em>, and that he was sorry he didn't take care of him - but that now, he would. He promised.</p><p>Tommy remembers - Wil had said he would always look after him, and he had never felt more at home.</p><p>Now, a boy sits alone in exile, and he clutches his hair in fists, nobody to sit by his bedside anymore, and he refuses the stinging in his tired eyes. He refuses to feel anything at all.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>As he stands at the edge of the crater, the boy does not refuse the stinging anymore.</p><p>He kneels, and he cries no matter how weak it makes him, thick tears rolling down his cheeks, body racketing with sobs, and he misses having a <em> home </em> (not his little dirt house, a place where he felt safe), and he mourns for everything that he lost, but most of all, he mourns <em>W</em><em>ilbur</em>.</p><p>He used to refuse that feeling, refusing to grieve the man that was his stupid, asshole brother, refusing to admit that there was a void by his side and a hole in his heart that could be filled by nobody and nothing else.</p><p>Yet now, as he exists, he allows himself to crumble, to break apart and let that feeling piece him back together.</p><p>Worst of all, he finally admits to himself; he cannot have a home, anymore.</p><p>Not without him.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur stands there, and Tommy does not know what to feel (he decides to feel everything at once).</p><p>The world spins for a moment, taking a breath, time stopping itself.</p><p>All that resentment of what Wilbur had done to him, all that sadness of missing him he had thrown to the side (because he was never allowed to feel that, his rights to feel things had been discarded by others a long time ago), the happiness of seeing him again, the boiling hot, white <em>rage</em> that flooded his system for leaving him all alone in this <em>stupid fucking smp</em> - he felt everything all at once, ignoring the tears that traced his face.</p><p>He steps up to the stairs towards him, eyes meeting his brother's, and he breaks.</p><p>(Maybe it's a good thing, this time.)</p><p>Increasing his pace, he runs towards Wilbur, colliding with him as he throws himself into his arms, just like they used to during the revolution.</p><p>"You stupid bastard!" Tommy half-shouts, half-whispers as he buried himself in the crook of Wilbur's neck, "You fucking idiot, I-" his voice wavers, closing his eyes as he wraps his arms around him.</p><p>"I missed you."</p><p>Wilbur sunk into the embrace, letting out a shaky laugh as he held him tightly, afraid to let go.</p><p>"I missed you, too." </p><p>(He doesn't need to say <em>I</em><em>'ll make it up to you</em>, an unspoken agreement; they have all the time in the world to do that, now. </p><p>Maybe, they can build a home within each other.) </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading !! any and all feedback is appreciated, stay hydrated, and have a good day :] </p><p>i brainrot about the crimeboys + c!tommy on my twitter @leviperium. i also do art and post writing updates over there !! dms are always open</p></blockquote></div></div>
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